


closer to feral

by tangentiallly



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Gen, description of shooting darts at a human cardboard cutout, pre-opera night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 20:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17835578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangentiallly/pseuds/tangentiallly
Summary: Beatrice practices darting shooting.





	closer to feral

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't own ASOUE  
> please don't copy this story to another site

 

Beatrice knew what decision she’d made, and she knew that she wasn’t changing her mind. Even if seeing the usual dartboard being switched to a human cardboard cutout that’s white but with certain organs labeled on it made hitting the intended target about five times harder. Five, of course, was just a number, a limited amount. Five was not infinity.  Five times harder, it was just a clear goal that she was sure she could reach, with practice.  She stared at the darts on the wall that missed the cardboard, and fought the urge to just go walk over nearer and slam the dart onto the cardboard right onto the part where the heart was labeled.

She squeezed the dart tight in her hand, feeling the room around her faded into blurriness and the cardboard zoomed in ridiculously clear. She could hear her heart pounding, as if threatening to jump out of her any second.  This was good, a background voice said inside her mind, must be adrenaline or something, which would be a good help.  She threw the dart forward, and it landed couple of inches left of the cardboard.

She let out a frustrated growl, grabbed another dart from the box at a lightning speed before immediately sprinting over to the other side of the room where the cardboard was. She pulled her arm back a little before flinging it forward.  Her hand stopped right before the dart could hit right on the target.  She was breathing unevenly and shaking a little.  Her grip on the dart tightened and she wanted to cry.

She didn’t cry.

She thought so, anyway.

Beatrice shut her eyes tight, forcing herself to recite lines from one of Gustav’s more boring screenplays inside her head.  She was sure those exist but she couldn’t think of any at the moment, which must be a sign that Gustav should make more memorable boring screenplays.  If Olaf was here right now, they would be chuckling at the term “memorable boring screenplays” together, and the thought of this made her laugh out loud, a laugh that sounded almost hysterical in her own ears.

She wasn’t sure how long she laughed, but she finally stopped, then wiped something away from her cheeks that she was sure was just sweat.  She glared at the cardboard in front of her, then slowly, carefully, put her index finger on the heart labeled on the cardboard, circling it.  It was just like the centerpoint of the dartboard, she told herself.  If she could hit the former right on target, she could definitely do the latter, too.  She just -- needed to overcome -- well, something.  She was usually eloquent, but she couldn’t think of the right word for it now.

She had to get better at this, get proficient enough to handle this mission.  Sure, there was other people on the mission too, but she knew it had to be her to do the final step.  Because she sure as hell wouldn’t let Kit be the one to do it.  Kit shouldn’t have to be the one, Beatrice thought fiercely, almost protectively.  Kit should really not be involved at all, if it was Beatrice’s decision, because, well, plausible deniability and emotional attachment and whatever.  But Kit insisted she could handle it, that she was capable of being a volunteer who put VFD first.  And honestly, Beatrice understood how that felt, really, because she felt similarly.  Just because she’d grown up with Olaf and had gone on dozens of missions with him and knew him so well as if they were siblings, that didn’t mean she couldn’t handle an important VFD mission regarding him.  And it wasn’t that she thought Kit was less capable of handling this than her either, but that didn’t stop Beatrice from wanting to take this all upon herself, didn’t stop Beatrice’s desire to just shield Kit away from all of this. Despite however much she wanted Kit to be completely uninvolved, to be protected from this, she also respected how Kit herself wanted to be part of this.

And then there was Bertrand, of course.  Bertrand, the third member of this mission.  Bertrand, who was cordial and polite to everyone. Bertrand, who Beatrice was quite sure was much more than just the polite guy that met the eyes. She definitely didn’t want to him to be the one to do it either.  It had to be either her or Kit, Beatrice thought, not exactly sure what she was trying to prove but definitely wanting to prove it anyway.  She didn’t want the higher ups of VFD to think Bertrand was the one who fired the dart because she and Kit couldn’t bear to do it because they’d been too close to Olaf, or too emotionally vulnerable to handle this.  She didn’t want them to think she and Kit couldn’t do it because they were _women_.

So, Bertrand being the one to fire the dart was not an option. Kit being the one was not Beatrice’s preferred choice. Which led to the painfully obvious conclusion that she was the only person left.  And, she couldn’t afford to mess this up for all of them.  Besides, she was the one who knew Olaf the longest, so it seemed fitting for the final shot to be her job instead of someone else, if only in a poetical way, Beatrice rationalised to herself.

She gritted her teeth and then slowly began backing up away from the cardboard. She kept her aim of the dart at the cardboard as she moved, focusing at the intended target spot, staring at it so hard as if she could burn a hole through it if she did it long enough.  She could do this. _She could she could she could she could_.

This time, not only the room blurred away, but also most parts of the cardboard, too.  The heart drawn on the board and its label was, on the other hand, clearer than ever.  She lowered her body slightly in a position to launch, her hand still aiming so unwaveringly.

She fired the dart.

It landed right on target.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](https://beatricebidelaire.tumblr.com)


End file.
